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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502604">Battery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayBarou/pseuds/JayBarou'>JayBarou</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 13:01:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26502604</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayBarou/pseuds/JayBarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She was running out of battery, and the call she was waiting for was vital in the most literal way.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Battery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Inspired by the Penumbra Podcast Workshop, so I guess this could go here too.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This job had been exactly what she needed, so maybe that was why it had been nothing but trouble since day one. Trouble followed the job, she followed trouble, it was all the same in the end. That was why she was still underprepared in the busy terminal, with a dying phone in her hands, and her flat’s rent hanging from a phone call.</p><p>The wall plugs were all in use: a peculiar mix of electro-hoarders, workaholics, tech-addicts, all huddled together. Not a sympathetic eye contact, assholes. 7% battery. She ran looking at walls ankle-high. Airports are entirely too big and stupidly devoid of sockets, she was tempted to unplug a vending machine, but she was not that desperate, yet. 6% battery. She sped past the assortment of coffee-shops with her determined gaze hoping to lock eyes with a pair of black little holes. Nothing. She dashed past shops and lights. The person vacuuming looked like someone who would make a scene if she were to unplug the noise-maker. 4% battery.</p><p>She had gone back and forth like a madwoman, waiting for someone to leave, but those people were persistent. 2% battery. That’s it; those vending machines had it coming.</p><p>“Hey, you!”</p><p>The shout could have been for any of the thousand nameless faces around her, but she felt it directed at her and she turned, looking for the voice. There, at one of the coffee shops, was an affable man in a neon-pink floral parka waving for her to get closer to where he was sitting at a tiny table with a tiny empty cup.</p><p>“Excuse me, but I was terminally bored and you have been my main entertainment for the last while.” He made a zigzagging line pointing behind her, where she had been frantically looking for a socket. “And I thought I could offer you my spot...” He shifted slightly and her eyes went round with desire at the spot where a pink charger could be seen.</p><p>“You would do that? I would be so grateful. Let me invite you to another coffee. I’m expecting a call and it is vita-” He held up a finger and his smile made her nervous.</p><p>“Another cup would be nice. But what’s eating me inside right now is knowing what could make someone as nervous as you are. So I’ll trade you my spot, but you have to take this phone call of yours on speaker.</p><p>“But... This NDA...”</p><p>“That’s my deal.”</p><p>Absolutely not. Her clients were vague enough, always saying things like “you know what to do” and “deal with it”, but her latest client had the nasty tendency of telling her how to do her job instead of telling her the important details of the job, which was what had landed her in this situation in the first place.</p><p>“Are you sure I can’t bribe you with two coffees?”</p><p>With the prices in the airport, that was already a good cut of her benefits.</p><p>“Curiosity drives me farther than caffeine.”</p><p>Her phone beeped warning her of the 30 seconds margin to plug it in. Damn it all.</p><p>“Fine! On speaker!”</p><p>After all, her client wouldn’t be on the phone for too long. She only needed a few final pointers; the rest was said and done. And if everything failed, she could always take her old excuse for a walk: “It’s the documentation for a novel.” It had helped her out of a few sticky situations.</p><p>She breathed with relief when chargers were exchanged and the red led lit up. She had hoped there would be calm for a second or two, but luck wasn’t smiling on her today. Private number, phone call incoming. The man was looking at her expectantly, the lack of ID was clearly fueling his curiosity. She swept right.</p><p>“Are you in position?” Who outside of TV said something that suspicious on the phone?</p><p>“I’m at the terminal.” She answered with a contained sigh, trying to convey a <em>what can you do</em> at her good but nosey Samaritan.</p><p>“Good, good. Then you may still have time.” She rolled her eyes, whose fault was it if she was given the information by instalments at the last possible moment? “And make sure you hurry afterwards, I just read how fast the poison works...” She looked up at the man and her head started to make up excuses faster than the planes outside. “...and you will recognize him easily. His neon-pink parka always gives away the son of a-”</p><p>“I’m sure the parka will look nice in the casket, Morgan,” he interrupted.  </p><p>The line went deadly silent. Then it disconnected, leaving behind only the deadly silence. She searched in her catalogue of polite smiles something appropriate and came empty-handed.  </p><p>“You don’t want that coffee anymore, right?”</p>
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